Before The Dawn
by Adia Rose
Summary: The death of Archie Mitchell shook the Square and shook the Mitchells. You think you know the truth about Archie? You think you know the score? Think again.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my new story. I doubt it will be very long really but it is a different take on the death of Archie Mitchell and WILL reveal 'whodunnit'! (Although my version obviously). It will feature Roxy, Ronnie, the man in this chapter, and a few others along with many surprises...the past will all take on a new meaning, things you thought you knew...you don't.**

**Also, I WILL still be writing Truth, but I am a little stuck on it at the moment and had this little plotbunny in my head so had to get it out. I hope you all like it. Please let me know what you all think. **

**This chapter is very much just introductory and is just setting the scene.**

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The revelers of Albert Square were in full swing, odd lines of Auld Lang Syne rang out from huddled groups and the shouts of new years greetings were passed back and forth between people in varying degrees of inebriation. Roxy sat on the corner of the sofa in Dot's living room where the television flickered out the fireworks as the chimes of Ben Big came to an end. She wiped her eyes discretely though there was nobody there to see the tears, Ronnie was asleep beside her, drained and looking so childlike in her curled slumber. The shouts still echoed in the Square but Roxy didn't dare to utter the words. There wasn't a happy new year, not for the Mitchells.

Roxy's eyes skittered around the room. It felt dead, the whole world for Roxy felt dead, cracked open and broken. Her daddy was dead, Ronnie was a mess, Peggy was inconsolable and Phil was flat out drunk, happily destroying himself and any remnants of family and support the Mitchells may have had. Roxy lifted Ronnie's feet from her lap and knelt beside her for a moment. She noted the blotchy, tear stained complexion, the dark circles around her eyes and knew that she must look the same. But somehow it didn't matter. Once the party girls, New Years would have been spent half cut, dancing in a bar, or equally likely, on a bar, until they passed out or went home with one of the men they'd have toyed with in the night. And now here they were, in a strange house, the television providing the only light as they sat alone, broken.

"Tell me it'll get better yeah?" Roxy whispered to Ronnie as she slept. Pleading, begging, Roxy didn't know what she was doing as the words spilled out. "Like you used to? Tell me it'll get better Ron. Tell me it'll all be ok." Her knees twinged as she knelt on them on the thin carpet, she stroked Ronnie's hair back off her forehead before lowering her shoulders to curl her upper body in against Ronnie's just for a second. As if, as she squeezed her eyes closed and hid herself in her big sister, somehow things would all go back to how they were, how it was when they were children, when their daddy was their hero and everything was simple.

"Sorry Ron. I'll see you in the mornin'." Roxy whispered as she untangled herself from the sofa and stood to leave. She didn't look at Ronnie's face. Although Ronnie was asleep so eye contact could easily be avoided, somehow Roxy still couldn't look in her sister's face, not then.

Roxy wrapped her coat tightly around her as she stepped out into the Square. She stood staring at the Vic for several moments, unable to move from the doorstep as she watched strangers and friends walking past her old home, the place she had last seen her father, when he died. Setting her eyes to the floor, Roxy moved away from the Branning's house and folding her arms over her chest she moved to the one place she could think of to go, the one person she wanted to see. Knocking on his door she wondered if she was doing the right thing, wondered if it mattered what she wanted anymore. But as the door opened and he stood there, in his boxers and a shirt, looking comfortingly into her eyes. She knew she had come to the right man.

"Rox," he said, his voice slightly husky as though from sleep. Roxy found herself smiling despite herself at his disheveled state. He stood back from the door, welcoming her in and Roxy stepped through the threshold, turning to stare at him and watch as he closed the door. But she couldn't find the words. She stood silently as he stepped forward to stroke her face, moving a lock of hair back from her eyes. A tear escaped her.

"Shh..." he whispered into her ear as his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her in to his body. He laid a kiss into Roxy's hair, laying his head atop hers. "Come on." He said, meaning to lead her into the living room but unable to move Roxy from her position in his arms.

"Just hold me ok? Just for tonight, look after me yeah?" He was taken aback. Roxy's weakness wasn't something normal, at least not so openly displayed.

"Of course I will. Come on." His voice was soft as made to lead Roxy into the living room only for her to pull away from him.

"No." She uttered, her eyes locking with his. She caught his hand in hers as he looked quizzically at her. Silently she pulled on his arm as she made steps towards the stairs, leading him eye to eye upstairs.

Standing on the bottom step Roxy stopped, he stood against her, bodies together and she leant forward and brushed her lips whisperingly across his before making tracks across his jaw. She turned, his hand still in his and lead him to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to be comforted, body to body and to lie safe in another's arms.

Closing the bedroom door behind him he watched Roxy stripping off her coat, soon followed by her next layer of clothing. He watched, but though they kept eye contact, there was something missing from Roxy's gaze and he stepped forward, grasping her hands, stopping the progression of nudity. His thumbs caressed the backs of her hands and he shushed her before leading her still partially clothed into the bed, ignoring her confused protests. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, content to hold her and protect her from the pain, if only for a moment.

Roxy let out a loud sigh as she tried to stop more tears coming. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands into his chest, feeling the strength of muscle, the comforting form, her doctor, her Al.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N --- The reaction to the first chapter hasn't been great. But I'm really hoping that people will like this story. It won't be too long but it will hopefully be surprising...and hopefully you guys will enjoy it. Please review to let me know what you all think.**

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Al woke early, light was barely cracking through the heavy clouds outside his flat as he woke. He stretched out his legs and free arm, straining the ache of sleep from himself but for the one arm pillowing the head of Roxy who was sleeping in a blissful peace beside him. He stared at her face, she looked so calm. It was a rare sight and regretfully one that was only more rare now. The death of Archie, her father. Al sighed and slowly inched his arm out from underneath his beautiful Roxy. He moved to the window and looked out at the Square. The blue tarpaulin over the door of the Vic was rustling, an eerie sound only serving to make his skin crawl. He leant against the wall, looking back and forth between the Vic, the scene of so much pain and violence and back to the solitude of Roxy, sighing softly in her sleep, moving an arm languidly as if reaching for him. The daily barrage of police and investigators would be arriving soon. Al closed the curtains, willing himself to be able to block it all out, keep Roxy from it for as long as he could.

Sitting down at the desk in the corner Al laid his head in his hands. His eyes continued to be drawn to the woman laid in his bed, she looked so beautiful and yet there was so much pain there just to be felt all over again when she awoke. So much had happened in the last year. The year may be over but Al knew that this would all live on and fester long after the chimes of Big Ben had rang out across the city. He pulled forward some papers, sighing as he saw what he was facing again, old cheques never cashed, pictures and documents, some still from his old job. So many things dragged up, left unfinished. He grabbed a pen and scribbled it onto a blank piece of paper merely distracting himself, not knowing where to start.

_March 12th 2009_

"_Doctor." The call came from the other side of the room as Al watched the monitors, reading notes from the files in his hand as he stood by the child's bedside. "The x-rays are back and it's a compound fracture of the tibia." The nurse held out the new results to Al and he took them, looking back and forth between the crying child and the words he was reading._

"_Right, talk to surgery and up the morphine." He spoke, giving the paperwork back to the nurse who took them and followed his orders, leaving the room to consult with surgery._

_Al turned to the child who's mother was sat holding his hand. He spoke to the little boy, telling him that they would make him better, they would make it stop hurting. He spared a glance and a word for the shaking mother but he knew that the police would be there soon. Too many bruises on both mother and child showed the truth, but neither were forthcoming and nothing would be done, he knew it and he hated it._

_Leaving the room he watched as the staff and patients moved through the corridors, nothing would change. Unless he made the efforts, took the steps, broke those codes._

"Mfump" Al snapped from his reverie as Roxy grumbled in her sleep. He smiled at her softness, her vulnerability. So easily hurt, just like everyone else.

Across the Square Ronnie was dragged unagreeably from her sleep, her neck ached from the position it had been stuck in on the sofa through the night. She closed her eyes once again, willing sleep to claim her once more but the noises that had woken her would not desist.

"Get out! Get out and sober up! You're a disgrace!" Ronnie didn't need to wonder who was speaking or who she was speaking to. Wide eyed she stared into the middle distance, she should be used to this, used to Phil and Peggy arguing, used to Phil drowning any worried or troubles at the bottom of a bottle, used to this feeling of emptiness, used to the loss. But somehow, it just hurt all the more. An unconscious hand on her stomach was quickly snapped away as she remembered it was futile to protect something which no longer existed.

"Yeah, well Mum, that's gratitude for you isn't it?" The grisly voice shouted and resounded through the house but the words meant nothing to Ronnie, they didn't even register.

"What? Phil what are you saying, I loved him. What do you mean gratit..." The door slammed and a whimper could be heard from the hallway. Ronnie's eyes stayed unblinking in their vacant stare. Happy new year. 2009 had been put to an end, it was over. Unquestioningly the most traumatic and devastating year that Ronnie could ever have imagined and she had lived it. Unconsciously she wished for this year to be better, for it to hurt just that little bit less, but already the pain was present. A new year and still the same old agony.

"Mmm, morning." Roxy stretched tightened muscles as she gazed at Al. She watched him turn towards her, subtly pushing papers into a pile and out of sight with one hand. His face remained calm and held a small sympathetic smile though inside his nerves were set in panic.

"I thought you needed the rest." Al answered a question that hadn't been asked as he made his way towards the bed and sat down on the edge, leaning to place a kiss on Roxy's lips, sitting back up as they parted and watching Roxy lay back down, her eyes still closed.

"Come 'ere." Roxy muttered, reaching out blindly for the back of Al's neck and pulling him down on top of her. As their lips met heavily and moved together in a languid softness she pulled the duvet back off herself and opened her legs, pulling Al to lay between them, his pelvis cradled between her thighs as she threw the duvet back over them both. Her arms wrapped around Al, one hand burying itself in his hair as the other gripped his backside, her fingers digging into his muscled flesh as she pulled him almost painfully close on top of her, arching her hips up into him. His hands framed her face as he kissed her, reverent and gentle in her pain. Slowly and so gently he removed the remnants of her clothes as the light broke through the Square and they moved together.

"Mrs Mitchell?" DCI Marsden stood on the doorstep staring at Peggy Mitchell and the vacant, tired expression that she held. "We need to ask a few more questions." Marsden stepped uninvited into the house and past Peggy unhindered. "Is Veronica around?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N --- Ok, trying a bit of a new format and style in this story compared to my others. I worry it will be a little disjointed as much of this fiction is about the past. Let me know if it's working or not as I'm not sure if it's a little too confusing.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and I really hope you guys will keep liking this story and that others might too. I promise it will get more interesting lol.**

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_June 24h 1991_

"_Stop it. It's mine, it's hers. Get off!" Ronnie screamed as the card was snatched out of her hands. She stood shaking, trying to seem intimidating, trying desperately to hold her ground and not let him see her pain._

"_To my little Amy," Archie whined out sarcastically as he read aloud from the card. "Two years old and I love you more than ever. Happy Birthday my angel. Love always, mummy." Archie looked up patronisingly from the card before ripping it in two before Ronnie's face."V, haven't you got over this yet? She's gone. Long gone. For good."_

"_No! She's mine and she's out there and she deserves to know I'm thinking of her." She took a deep breath as Archie laughed a harsh sound and looked in exasperation out of the window, away from her. "She'd be walking now and talking and everything..."_

"_Yes, she probably is!" Archie snapped out, "But you'll never get to see it. Now let it go V. I've had enough." It took no more than this for Ronnie to launch herself towards her father and her fists fought out against him with everything she had, every inch of his body was fair game to be pained, but as much as she tried to hurt him, to mark him, her wrists were easily caught in his grasp. It was the first time she had ever fought out against him, the first time she had dared to lay a hand on him in anger and his expression showed it. He was beyond shock. _

"_You insolent little girl." His grasp tightened and he shook her violently. Ronnie couldn't believe what she had done. But the longing to do it again only built. "She's better off without you!" He shouted as he let go of her wrists, pushing her back by them with enough force as he let her go that she fell to the floor, looking up at him only to watch him leave._

"I've answered all of the questions down at the station, I don't understand." Ronnie said as DCI Marsden sat across from her in the Branning's living room. She scrubbed her hand across her face, the haze of sleep not seeming to want to lift. Her mind wouldn't focus properly and she couldn't understand why she would have to go through this all over again.

"During the search of the Queen Victoria some information has been unearthed. We need to go over a few things with you." Marsden's hands were folded in her lap over her notebook as her colleague stood to the side, hands moving over picture frames and looking around the room. "Could you tell me what you know about your father's accounts? Any money he passed to or from you? His businesses, his contacts..." Marsden trailed off to allow Ronnie to answer her questions.

"Money?" Ronnie asked, a note of incredulity in her tone. She shook her head, looking out towards the window she knew she had to answer the questions, no matter how trivial they felt in the magnitude of the loss that they had all suffered. "He was always dealing with someone...he had the money for it, he was a businessman." Always a businessman.

_March 30th 1989_

_The bulging envelope was taken slowly in hand as Archie drew it out from his pocket. He placed it on the desk, leaning forward to push it towards the young woman across the desk. _

"_Mr. Mitchell, I really..." the woman began to protest but it was weak, a protestation that was less than half-hearted. There was already a guilt behind her eyes at denying this man anything that he asked...and Archie knew it. Feigned professional manner...as if they were merely social worker and client, nothing more. He sighed dramatically and shook his head._

"_I just don't know what to do. She can't cope. She can't do it." Like a well timed dance, all method, all so carefully choreographed he looked up and into the woman's eyes. "I know my little V, she doesn't want this. She was going to have a termination, poor thing." Archie played his role like a maestro, pulling the strings, playing his instrument expertly. A deep breath, "She left it too late see." Tears welled up in his ears, he could play any part. Yes, business was his art form and this was just another transaction._

_The woman's hand reached across the desk to clasp onto Archie's. Her fingers slipped into his in comfort, but it was an act that she had performed more than once, in consolation, in intimacy, in pleasure._

"_She's guilty see," Archie simpered through his crocodile tears, "she thinks she has to have this baby now. But I know my girl, I know she won't care for it. She can't handle it. The moment that baby's born she'll run. Like before remember?" A carefully constructed act, the time his phone had 'shockingly' interrupted the passionate moments laid together in the west end hotel he liked so much. He'd had to leave her there, search for his runaway daughter. And she was left in the hotel as he went back home where Glenda and his girls were fast asleep, as they had been all night. And this woman, she had believed it, so easily._

"_God, Archie." Her head fell into her hands as she knew she was torn. She had to make a choice. Her career, the rules, or this man, his life, his child._

"_Linda, you're the only one who can help us. You know this isn't the right thing. Veronica, she just can't admit it." Linda nodded, trying to let herself be convinced that this would all be alright. "She just needs to sign those papers, or someone needs to sign them for her." Linda looked away, her whole career had been spent doing the right thing by these people, the people who needed her most. That's all she was doing here, she needed to believe that._

"_The money's for you..." Archie cupped her cheek, "It's security. I want you to know that I care about you. I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone. For you, for my daughter, for this baby." _

_And from one look into Linda's eyes, Archie knew that he had won. The papers would be signed one way or another and Ronnie's baby would be sent to another family, taking the shame with it. Archie would have his little girl back and everything would go back to how it was._

"There was a large volume of money taken from on of Mr. Mitchell's private accounts in the days leading to his death." DCI Marsden raised her eyebrows at Ronnie. Thirty minutes of questions and the blonde was barely holding up. "In fact," she continued, "there have been several significant withdrawls made over the last few months. Would you know anything about the transactions? Any business he could have been involved in, anything that could help?" It wasn't innocent questioning.

"I don't know." Ronnie squeaked, licking her lips nervously. What could she say? She barely knew her father or wanted him in her life, let alone to be party to his business ventures. "I wasn't...he wasn't...we didn't exactly talk much so I'm the wrong person to ask." Ronnie's fingernails scratched at her cuticles in nervous despondency, she forced her gaze up to meet Marsden's. Ronnie realised from the inspector's silence and expectant stare that her answer had clearly not been satisfactory. "All I know about is the car lot, he bought it out and then the loan he bought from Ian Beale." Ronnie folded her hands onto her lap, "but I've told you everything I know about that. I don't know any more." And she had never wanted to. Did she now? Could she really love her father now, after everything?


	4. Chapter 4

"Everything okay?" Al turned himself towards where Roxy was sat on the bed in his dressing gown as he continued to button up his shirt. Roxy turned towards him, holding her phone poised. It was well past midday and the Square seemed deserted, most of its residents at Syed and Amira's wedding and those who weren't were busy sleeping off hangovers or staying in with families. The only life seemed to be the ever present patrol of police officers still speaking to people, still searching.

"Yeah, it's just Ron asking where I am." Roxy sniffed, as her fingers moved over the keys to reply to her sister. Placing the phone on the bed she slipped her knickers back up her thighs and began to dress herself. Al stared out of the window, his eyes narrowing and heart pounding as he watched the police officers moving across the Square. He turned back to the bed to see Roxy slumped with her head in her hands.

"Rox, come here," Al opened his arms and knelt on the bed pulling Roxy in towards him. He stroked her hair and let her body relax onto his chest. The feeling of holding her, it was right, but was it worth it all? Had it been worth the risk?

_December 5th 2009_

_The phone buzzed again, the fifth time in a row. Al shoved it into a drawer, trying to ignore its incessant drone. He didn't want to have the conversation he knew was coming. He spent the day in his office, seeing patients, doling out prescriptions and advice and the entire time wondering what he was going to have to face._

_By the time the doctors surgery was closed Al felt exhausted. Stepping out onto the Square he was immediately confronted._

"_What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Al neither flinched nor jumped as the voice assaulted him. He had expected it. He knew it would be coming. He merely sighed, refusing to show his nerves at the mistake he had made. He had gone too far, got in too deep._

"_I guess you'll want to come up." Al said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Al already knew that this was a meeting he could not put off._

"_This was not part of our agreement!" Archie seethed as the door closed behind him in Al's flat. Al strode over away from Archie uncomfortably. "You think this is some sort of joke? That you violating my daughter is acceptable?!"_

"_It's between me and Roxy. It has nothing to do with anything else...or anyone else." Al snapped agitatedly. Archie slouched onto the sofa, relaxing and looking entirely unphased._

"_Would be a shame for Roxy to find out why you're here though wouldn't it." Archie smirked. Al's eyes narrowed angrily. "I'm giving you two weeks Albert. Two weeks to end this. I will not let my daughter get hurt...and we all know what you're capable of don't we."_

Roxy didn't deserve the pain. Al felt the guilt creep over him. He looked over towards the window again. He couldn't afford to get involved in this, in the investigation. If they found out how involved he had been with Archie, if they knew the truth, Al knew that he would be a prime suspect. And if Roxy ever found out, he knew he would lose her. It was something he wasn't willing to risk.

Ronnie paced the living room in the Branning's house. She couldn't stay still, energy felt like it was bursting inside her, achingly creeping through her veins, seeping into every limb. She had to move, thoughts swirling, fingers fidgeting.

"Ron?" Ronnie turned to see Roxy slipping through the door before softly closing it behind her. The sisters said nothing, merely staring at each other for seconds before Roxy approached Ronnie, throwing her arms around her. Neither spoke as Roxy began to cry.

Ronnie lead her to the sofa, sitting her down gently and wrapping her arms once more around her fragile little sister.

"I don't want him to be gone Ronnie." Roxy buried her head into her sister's shoulder, once again looking for protection. Ronnie let a tear slip down her cheek as she whispered soothing words to the woman in her arms. How did she suddenly want her father back more than anything? After everything he had done, he had taken away her life and still, she wanted him back.

"I know Roxy. Shhh...I know."

_August 29th 2005_

_Music pounded it's thudding vibrations though the room, the lights flashing, sporadically illuminating the sweaty, half naked throng of people gyrating and pulsing along with the beat. The air was hot and close with the combined heat of the summer and the mass of bodies all moving together. Behind the bar Ronnie slammed a row of shots out to the waiting holiday partiers and flashed a smile at one of the men as she leant over the bar to take his money, her top low, her way with the customers easy and so well trained. She glanced over to the other side of the bar where Roxy was pulling a mans head towards her over the bar, their lips crashing together as she took the money from his hand and spared him a wink as she walked away, her hips swaying purposefully beneath her short skirt._

_The dawn was breaking as the two women walked arm in arm back to their apartment._

"_Oi Rox, show us some!" A group of lads staggered past, raising their drinks to Roxy and grinning at her excitedly. Roxy smirked to herself and pulled her skirt up to show the men her backside before pulling it back down, blowing the men a kiss and once again linking her arm with Ronnie's to continue on their way as the men wolf whistled and whooped._

"_Nice Rox, really nice." Ronnie said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Great rep you're building out here."_

"_Oh shut it Ron, just cos it takes a crowbar to get your legs open!" Ronnie nudged Roxy teasingly, trying not to laugh at the comment. "Although, Nick didn't seem to have much trouble from what I heard." Ronnie turned to Roxy suddenly, her eyes wide, obviously shocked that Roxy knew about that particular indiscretion. She watched as Roxy shook her head,_

"_Oh come on Ron, we live in the same country, you two weren't exactly quiet..." Roxy's rant was interrupted as her phone rang, she reached into her pocket and began to speak as Ronnie let them into the apartment. At the sound of her father's voice, Roxy glanced shyly at Ronnie before rushing to her room and closing the door behind her._

_Ronnie raised an eyebrow and gave a small smirk assuming that Roxy had yet another man on her tail._

"_Dad!" Roxy whispered, making her way to the furthest corner of her room._

"_Roxanne, there's my girl." Archie smiled. "How are you? How are my girls?"_

"_Good, we're good. What are you doing up so early?" Roxy asked, suddenly realising that it was barely dawn back in England. "Dad are you alright? Dad?"_

"_Did you get the money Roxy?" Archie asked, avoiding the question. _

"_Yeah...but Dad...can't you just come out and see us?" Roxy knew that Archie wanted them both home, both back with him and had even sent Roxy money for the flights and more besides._

"_Roxy darling, you're old Dad's not too well. I need my girls with me. I need you both home."_

_Roxy said nothing to Ronnie. She didn't know how she could ever persuade her. She was stuck. The love for her sister was undeniable. But sometimes Roxy hated her, hated Ronnie for making her choose, for making things so hard. Roxy reached into her bra and pulled out the small bag of white powder, her little escape._


End file.
